


The Fireplace In My Heart

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), Christmas Party, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, possible future angst, they are so dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Aziraphale and Crowley are invited to a Christmas party held at Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell’s new home.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 8





	The Fireplace In My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> yeaaa this might not be updated as frequently as i’d like, but during the winter break it should almost definitely be finished! i’ve had this idea for awhile (even though i feel as if multiple people have done this before), so enjoy this first chapter!  
> have a spectacular day guys, gals and non-binary pals !! :D

A dim light began to fill Crowley’s flat, threatening a slightly warm temperature for the past few winter weeks. The snow from morning had gently lain on roads, slowly dissolving underneath the cars fumbling by. The noise from outside disturbed the sleeping demon, and he begrudgingly began to awake from his sleep.

“Ngk... Bloody sata- someone, what time is it?” He groggily raised his head, his crimson hair now messy and aloof from his deep slumber. He rubbed his eyes slowly, groaning with annoyance. Surely it cant be that late already? Crowley arose from his bed, grabbing his dark glasses from his bedside table. He lazily plopped his glasses on his head, slipping into a black turtleneck and his everyday black leather jacket.   
Recently, the demon found that he just couldn’t stand wearing only a shirt underneath, it had become very troublesome in cases of morning drafts through his windows. As soon has he had gotten dressed, he headed to his office to check the time on his phone. 

“Gh, noon already? ‘Ziraphale is probably anxious to get a bite of lunch by now...” Crowley started to go through his messages on his phone, checking if Aziraphale had perhaps called about having lunch.   
As he was about to come to the disappointing conclusion that the angel may be too busy, he noticed a peculiar voicemail left by Madame Tracy. 

Of course, although Crowley and her hadn’t talked very much after Armageddon, him and Aziraphale had connected with her a few months later. He had visited Madame Tracy and Shadwell for the occasional ‘hang out’ every few months with Aziraphale, and sometimes Newt accompanied by Anathema. Curiosity began to nip at his brain, so he listened in on the message.

“Hello Mr. Antony Crowley, I would like to inform you that you are invited to a Christmas party held at our estate. The Them will be there, so do keep in mind on the contrary that they may beg for presents. If you are busy, call back and let us know. Otherwise, I shall see you in two days time. You know the address! Cheers love.” The message ended, and Crowley was left staring at his phone.   
He scrunched up his nose at the thought of such a social gathering, as his glasses on his head had now slid down onto the tip of his nose. He pushed them up with a finger, and sighed heavily. The party would most likely be filled with much drinking from Sergeant Shadwell, and many shenanigans from The Them. Frankly, the demon wasn’t sure if he was quite up for it. Although, it could possibly be an enjoyable reunion of all of those who were involved in the Apocawasn’t. It had been a year after all. Two days was painfully close though, would he even have time to get gifts for anyone? He had shrugged off giving presents, but Aziraphale would most likely scold him for turning down such an offer. Speaking of which, he had wondered if Aziraphale was invited as well. Immediately as he had thought of the angel, there was a call coming from his phone. 

“Ah, Crowley, so sorry to bother-“  
“Heya, angel. Whats up?” Crowley struggled keeping his voice from sounding too eager, and tried to stay nonchalant. Sadly, after being friends with someone for 6000 years, one becomes accustomed to tones in voice. So, while Crowley had assumed he sounded normal, Aziraphale could sense his smile from the other line.

“Right. I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to stop by the bookshop for a late lunch? I was thinking we could try a café that just opened up across the street. I hear they have delightful pastries.” There was a hint of hopefulness in the angel’s voice, so Crowley took the bait.

“‘Course, I’ll be there in a jiffy. Just erhm, angel?” Crowley asked.

“Yes dear?”

“Did you also get an invitation? To Tracy and Shadwell’s holiday get-together? Supposed to happen two days from now?” A pause was heard from the other line, but not before Crowley could respond again.

“Was hoping you would be going as-well, assuming that you were invited. I’m not much for these sorts of gatherings, so maybe you’d come with.” Crowley said, slowly pacing around his flat’s office. There was an audible “hm” from Aziraphale, as he heard him shuffle around the bookshop. 

“Yes I do believe I was invited as well. I’m not quite sure yet if I will be able to attend, the bookshop gets very busy around this time-“ 

“Angel, It’s fine. I think you might need this break. Not many stores are opened ‘round this time of the month anyways.” Hoping he had persuaded his friend, he awaited Aziraphale’s response. 

“Well... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to close up the bookshop for a day...” Aziraphale still seemed unsure, but Crowley shrugged it off, anxious to get going to see the angel.

“Alright ‘Zira, see you in five.” Crowley was just about to hang up, when he heard a surprised sound erupt from the other line.

“Crowley, do drive slow! The snow on the roads could be dreadfully slippery, and it would be very impolite of you to discorporate after we’ve already made plans.” Crowley let out a small heckle, and leaned against the door out of his flat. 

“See ya, angel.”

“Crowley, I am serious!-“ The demon hung up and laughed to himself, and threw on a heaving winter jacket. Crowley just couldn’t stand the cold sometimes. The demon sighed, sauntering his way out of the gloomy flat and into the snowy streets of Soho.

*

Aziraphale, left leaning against a bookshelf, awaited the quick arrival of Crowley. He pondered the thought of a day off to spend with friends, instead of staying in the bustling bookshop. He did want to attend, especially if Crowley would be there as-well. It had been a bit since he had seen The Them too, since most of the time he would only frequently visit Madame Tracy, Shadwell, and Anathema and her troubled boyfriend. He wondered silently, what gifts everyone would enjoy. Perhaps a new bike for Pepper, a new book on witches for   
Shadwell, and-

Wait. Something of a realization struck Aziraphale, allowing him to gasp mid thoughts.   
Aziraphale had never given a gift to Crowley. Yes, he had hesitantly given him the holy water back in 1967, but it was more of a very generous favour than a gift. Perhaps thats what their friendship is though, gracious acts of, as much as Crowley would hate to admit, kindness. What would the demon even like? Perhaps a new plant, but at the same time Aziraphale didn’t trust him with such fragile life, as he has heard Crowley’s outbursts on the poor plants. Maybe a new jacket, or perhaps a record? But as he thought on and on, nothing seemed quite “good” enough. Crowley had always given gifts to Aziraphale of his own, like their afternoon strolls alone in St. James, or their drunken nights spent wasting away on the couch. Their quiet sits on the bench, the small smiles he’d give Aziraphale, the warm, genuine chuckles that would erupt from his chest when the angel made him laugh. It all seemed as if just being in Crowley’s presence was enough of a gift. The cheesy thought was interrupted by none other than Crowley, quickly opening the bookshop’s doors. 

“Hey ‘Zira! Uh, where are you?” Aziraphale’s chest fluttered at the new nickname Crowley had picked up, after one drunken night in the bookshop’s back room. It still never ceased to make Aziraphale smile. 

“Ah, I’m coming dear.” Aziraphale emerged from behind his shelves, his hands cupped together, passively hanging in front of him. The demon was left standing there, as Aziraphale stared at his friend in awe. He was wearing a turtleneck, holding a gigantic winter jacket, hair disheveled from what the angel could only assume was sleep. Snowflakes still stayed in Crowley’s hair, but slowly started to melt into sparkly droplets. Aziraphale hadn’t noticed he was staring for long, until the demon slowly walked up to him.

“Uhh... Angel, we should get going...” His sudden voice interrupted his train of thought, as he hurriedly tucked his hands into his coat pockets. Had he really been staring that long?

“Oh- uh- yes, my apologies dear. Lets get a wiggle on, then.” He glanced at Crowley’s confused face once again, and shuffled to the front of the bookshop. He quickly grabbed his tartan scarf, and awaited Crowley’s slow descend to the door. But, Crowley didn’t budge, and tilted his head to the side as he raised an eyebrow at the angel. ‘Curses, he must know something is up...’ the angel thought.

“Crowley, are you coming?” Aziraphale said, gesturing to the door. The demon merely took a few steps towards the angel, and stopped in his tracks.

“You alright? You seem a bit on edge.” Crowley’s low voice spoke up, as Aziraphale tried his best not to glance up and down at his friend again, admiring his messy, crimson red hair. He just wished he could maybe run his fingers through it, and...  
Crowley walked closer, clearly noticing something was bothering Aziraphale.

“You can tell me, you know, if somethings wrong.” Crowley seemed at bit offended at the silence that the angel returned, but it all ended quite quickly. 

“Ahah, no Crowley, I’m just anxious to have a nibble I presume. Now, lets head out, shall we?” As Aziraphale finished, his friend still looked skeptical. But despite that, he stepped closer and leaned forward to open the door with his back. 

“Alright then, lets go. I have a few things to sort out with you about the holiday party, regarding presents. Figured you might have a few ideas.” 

“Ah, yes I do believe I have a rough idea on what the others might like.” Crowley nodded, and pushed the door open slowly.

“After you, angel.” Aziraphale anxiously chuckled under his breath, and made his way onto the busy sidewalk. Crowley slowly shut the door, and followed pursuit behind the angel.   
Aziraphale was walking noticeably quick, as Crowley tried to keep the angel’s seemingly worried pace. Crowley couldn’t possibly ever know that the reason the angel was so frantic, was because he was swooning over his best friend. Aziraphale sighed, as he quickened his pace through the bustling street.   
This could be a long day.

*

Crowley swung the door to the café open, surprised to see Aziraphale in line, already getting a table for them. He had been quite skittish after their encounter in the bookshop, and Crowley couldn’t understand it. He knew something was bothering him, but what could it be? Maybe he’s stressed about the Christmas party in two days. Besides, its not a lot of time to get that many gifts.  
As Crowley walked towards Aziraphale, he saw him flinch at his sudden presence. 

“Ah, terribly sorry dearest- ahem, dear. I’ve gotten us that table right to the left. I’ll be with you in just a tick.” He coughed into his hand as if to urge the demon to sit, as his shaking hand pointed to the exact table.

“Ngh, ‘kay.” Crowley managed, trying his best to ignore the nickname that slipped out. “But er... Why do I have to wait?” Aziraphale slowly turned his head from the direction of the table to Crowley, lowering his arm. A small smile inched its way up the angel’s face, as he presumably stared at his... Hair? Crowley couldn’t tell. Aziraphale patted down his hands onto his coat, as he turned away to walk towards a nearby hallway.

“Just using the restroom dear, like I said I’ll be out in a tick.” Even if his voice did sound less anxious, his body language was very unusual. Crowley worriedly hummed as he made his way to the café table, sitting down and draping his arm on the chair.   
What could be worrying the angel so much?

*

As Aziraphale slowly opened the washroom door, a bead of sweat made its way down his forehead. He heavily sighed, looking in the mirror to see that he looked quite disheveled.   
For one; he was sweating profusely, two; his cheeks were quite pink, and third; he was shaking as if there was an earthquake beneath his feet. He brought up a hand towards his forehead, feeling his hot temperature.

“Right, you can do this Aziraphale. You can handle being around Crowley.” He breathed out, quieter than a whisper. He smoothed out his hair, and shakily washed his hands. He didn’t comprehend how anxious he gets around his friend before.  
Was it perhaps he was just a bit sick? Or maybe he was just worried about something else, like his bookshop. Whatever it was, it’s currently driving the angel crazy. He can stand being around his friend. He could do this without falling apart. He needed to think about the party, and what gifts the others may want. But as he drifted out of deep contemplation, he realized he had been vigorously washing his hands for the past minute. He sighed once again, and turned the tap off. Drying his hands, he made his way out of the washroom and back into the café front.   
Trying his best not to glance at Crowley, he made his way to the cashier. Fidgeting with his collar, he made his way up to the woman patiently standing at her station.

“Hello dear, could I have a dark coffee with milk, and... Hm... What pastries do you recommend?” His voice shook, but the lady just smiled and nodded slowly as she pondered. 

“Ah yes, I’d recommend the eclairs, they are quite delicious.” She grinned patiently as Aziraphale’s eyes lit up, and he stopped prodding at his coat sleeves to reach for some cash in his pocket. 

“Absolutely delightful, I’ll take two please. This should be enough, correct?” Aziraphale held up some money, slowly lowering it to the counter. 

“Ah, you can keep some of that sir-“

“No, I insist. Keep the change.” He brightly smiled as she did back, and waited for her to whip up the coffee. She came back to her spot only half a minute later, and handed him the coffee and a paper bag with the two eclairs inside. Aziraphale hungrily glanced down at the delectable pastries inside, and nodded thanks. As he walked towards the table where Crowley still sat, he noticed the demon’s shifty gaze watching as Aziraphale sat across from him. He had definitely caught on that the angel was hiding something. 

“What did you get?” Crowley clearly had meant to ask something else. The angel still stared at the eclairs as he pushed the dark coffee towards Crowley, his expressions unreadable.

“Just some eclairs and a dark coffee for you, dear. With milk of course, just how you like.” The angel slowly took an eclair out of the paper bag, delicately taking a small bite into it. He let out a very quiet hum, and took another bite. Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice that Crowley didn’t seem to budge as he did so. 

“Right. Great. Ngk.” The demon seemed a bit lost, had Aziraphale gotten the order wrong? The demon still didn’t move, not daring to take a sip from his now cooling down coffee. Aziraphale continued to nibble at the eclair, letting out small noises of satisfaction with each bite. Aziraphale glanced up from his pastry, noticing the silence from the demon. Sure, this was normal when they ate, but Crowley still hadn’t even touched his coffee. He also would usually be more slumped into his chair, but this time he was sitting straight up. How peculiar.

“So, erm. ‘Zira.” He said, voice low and a bit gravely. Aziraphale placed his pastry down onto the paper bag, trying to look Crowley in the eyes, and patiently awaited his response. The demon opened his mouth to speak, and immediately closed it. 

“Yes...?” Aziraphale said, suddenly growing weary at his friend’s on edge vibe. As if Crowley was suddenly surged with confidence, he relaxed into his chair. 

“Just wonderin about what gifts to get for the party. I was thinking I might not, but then again you’d probably smite me for turning down such a,” Crowley shivered, and looked over at the angel as he continued, “‘kind deed’.”   
Aziraphale was feeling a bit feverish as he stared at Crowley’s hair again, clearly not paying as much attention as he might have liked. His hair stood up at all ends, and little strings of red hair laid on his nose and forehead. Melted snowflakes still stayed on a few parts on his head, and Aziraphale’s heart ached at the sight. He wished he could just gently move those few strands of hair to behind his ear, and slowly pet his friend’s tangled locks. He glanced down to his friends face, admiring how his dimples showed as he continued to talk about plans for the party. He slowly nodded to pretend he was listening, as he propped an elbow on the table and placed a hand underneath his chin.

“So, what do you think angel?” This startled Aziraphale’s thoughts, as he glanced over once again from Crowley’s hair to his questioning face.

“Ah erm, yes dear whatever you think is fine.” Crowley raised an eyebrow as he followed the direction of the angel’s eyes, very clearly staring at his hair. 

“Aziraphale, I asked if I should get Anathema a scarf or a necklace of some sort. Are you listening?” Aziraphale snapped out of his trance, suddenly feeling his face lightly heat up. His eyes widened as he stopped his gaze at the demon’s eyes, which were now peering out from behind his shifted glasses.

“Sorry dear, I do believe I’m a bit lost in this conversation. I sincerely apologize.” 

*

So the angel had been staring at Crowley, not a big deal. Yet the demon’s thoughts started racing, even just from Aziraphale’s adorable- no, sickening expression. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he smoothed out his hair as his free hand reached out for his coffee. Crowley spoke, his voice more than a little worried, to say the least.

“So angel, what you thinkin’? What would Anathema like?” He took a generous sip of his coffee, still peering from beneath his dark glasses. The angel still seemed a bit distracted, but he replied nonetheless. 

“Hm, I think she’d appreciate a nice scarf for the season...” Aziraphale reached for his eclair he had set down on the paper bag what felt like eons ago. The silence started to make the demon a bit squeamish, and it didn’t help that the angel was eating the eclair again.   
The small, feather light bites that the angel took would nearly send the demon to Hell and back, and it was even worse when Aziraphale made very unusual sounds. Crowley just couldn’t help but stare, unmoving as the angel continued to eat. The way his nose would scrunch up with each bite, and how his wrinkles indicating a smile of delight would show up during each savoury bite. He just enjoyed seeing Aziraphale happy for the most part. As much as Crowley hated it, he was head over heals for the angel.   
Trying to steer his thoughts away from such balderdash, he thought of an idea on how to break the awkward silence.

“So ‘Zira, perhaps if you aren’t too busy tomorrow, we could go and get gifts for everyone at the party? Might make more sense anyways, seeing as both of us are a bit clueless on what to get.” Aziraphale let out a low giggle, setting down the pastry once again. 

“I’m afraid you’re the only one confused, Crowley. I have a few very good ideas for some potential presents,” Aziraphale said, “but thats quite the temptation, dear boy.” 

Clearly Crowley had exaggerated a bit to get Aziraphale to agree, but its not as if Crowley would know where to get the gifts anyways. He would just miracle it up, but Aziraphale would definitely scold him, saying something along the lines of ‘it ruins the fun’. 

“Well, can you? Go with me, that is.”

“I don’t know, can I?” The angel let a small smirk cross his face, seeming more relaxed than before. Crowley let out a huge scoff, and though the angel couldn’t see it, Crowley had rolled his eyes.

“You bastard.” The demon said under his breath, but loud enough for Aziraphale to hear. The angel just smiled warmly in response, staring at him fondly.

“Welp, I’ll see you tomorrow then, ‘Zira.” Just as Crowley was getting up, Aziraphale jumped out of his seat. 

“Wait erm-“ Aziraphale said, shockingly loudly. Confused, Crowley stood there awaiting his response. He noticed Aziraphale sweat from the brow, as he glanced down at Crowley’s hand. The demon raised both eyebrows, as the angel merely grabbed his coffee. 

“Don’t forget this, dearest.” He mumbled, almost so quiet it was unintelligible. Crowley once again felt his heart jump at the sudden pet name, but this time Aziraphale didn’t seem eager on correcting himself. Cupping his hands around the coffee, he carefully placed it in Crowley’s hands, delicately holding his hands in place over the demon’s fingers. They stayed like this for only a few seconds, but Crowley’s heart nearly short circuited. He immediately felt heat rising in his cheeks, and silently cursed his corporeal body for having such reactions to small things. The demon slowly but surely met Aziraphale’s gaze, who was also expectantly looking back. Giving out from pressure, the demon slowly yanked the coffee away and tried his best to genuinely smile. It didn’t seem to fool the angel though, even if he didn’t comment on it.

“Ah yeah, whoops. See you tomorrow I suppose.” As much as the demon did want to stay with the angel for much longer, he didn’t feel like he could handle it without spilling all his feelings. The love in the air while sitting with him was probably toxic, and he hoped that Aziraphale couldn’t sense it.   
He knew angels could sense love, but perhaps this certain angel was oblivious. Sulking away, Crowley waved his hand behind his back, in a way of saying ‘thank you, I had a good time but I must be on my way’. Not turning back in fear of the angel now seeing the heat creeping up on his face, the demon walked out of the café. 

He braced himself as a chilling wind hit his face, almost knocking him out cold. He eventually found the Bentley outside of the bookshop, and lazily plopped into the drivers seat. Feeling the coolness of the car, he quickly turned up the heat and sat back in his seat. As soon as the car had started up, Queen’s ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ erupted from the speakers. Crowley sighed in annoyance, but drove anyways.  
He still didn’t understand why the angel had been so panicked, or why he had been staring so much. He was determined to find out though, in fear that he was the cause of the angel’s stress. If that was the case, he wanted to make sure he could fix it as soon as possible. 

Tomorrow was going to be enjoyable though, he hoped. If he was careful enough with how he acted, Aziraphale would never suspect that Crowley could feel such things for him. He’d done it for almost 6000 years, how could it be any different now?


End file.
